Supreme Destruction

And there was the alchemist, pouring something bubbling and steaming into a jar. "I hope that glass is heat-proof," I remarked as she popped in a cork.

She twitched one cat ear. "Of course it is. I work with hotter things than this, you know."

"Ah, I guess so," I admitted, straightening the roselle-patterned waist cinch over my tweed skirt. Lace petticoat, traveller's jacket-- I was beginning to get a little warm in the laboratory thanks to the blaze of her forge, even at night in a long-disused stone room secluded at the bottom of a near-endless stairwell. "If there is one thing that you do do, that is definitely it."

She plucked a vial off the shelf and inspected the label. "You came back to this place to see me, didn't you." It wasn't even a question.

"Yeah, I guess so." At least it sounded less embarrassing if she said it out loud.

"You're that addicted?" Her grin was mischievous. She handed me the bottle. "Drink this, if you need it that badly."

"It--" I started to protest that it wasn't that sort of addiction, but then my brain caught up with the writing on the label, and I stopped everything to consider.

I know what you're really here for, said her smile.

"You know how it feels, don't you." I almost leaned a hand on the countertop, before I remembered where I was and decided to keep my hands politely to myself. "The opening to eternity."

"To the abyss," she agreed cheerfully as she picked up and shook a small vial that looked like blood. "Swear yourself to the path and see what you become." She opened the cork of the steaming hot fluid and poured a small amount into the frothy blood, before recorking it and shaking it some more.

"Isn't that burning your hand?" I wondered.

She paused and looked down at her hand, which was turning red. "Yes. So it is."

I snorted an almost-laugh, and looked down again, absorbed in the bottle and what its label implied.